Encounter with the Future (1)

The moment we got back to the salon, the kids swarmed us as if they were starving. I handed out the convenience-store lunch boxes I'd heated, along with everything else I'd scrounged to eat, passed snacks to Kim Jong-hoon and the manager, and made the rounds with the salon staff as well.

Then the Traitor and I begged their pardon.

"Sorry. If we don't eat now, there won't be time for lunch."

"It's fine—don't be shy, just eat. You think we don't know how it is?"

We bowed anyway. And bowed again. Since yesterday, my neck and my back hadn't known a moment's rest.

We cracked the boxes open in a corner of the salon. Mine was bulgogi. The smell hit, and my stomach pitched; a growl escaped it for good measure. Come to think of it, I'd skipped breakfast too. A single cup of coffee was all I'd had. A full heart off the kids' smiling faces, it turned out, only lasted so long.

I fell on it with my chopsticks. Bulgogi. Bulgogi never lets you down.

The instant I set them down, the kids went straight ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠back to makeup. A ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠little later they changed into the outfits the stylists had brought, and every last preparation was done.

We piled into the van again in a rush. The destination was the G-Today newspaper building in Jongno. Interview photos, as a rule, got shot in cafés with pretty interiors—was there even a place to take pictures inside a building this bleak? We'd come all dressed up on less than a proper meal, and I was worried the camera wouldn't be kind. Set a humiliation shot, ruined by angle or lighting, beside a normal photo, and a plastic-surgery rumor is born on the spot.

While the Traitor parked in the basement garage, I called the reporter's number Kim Hyunjo had sent. It rang for a long while before a young woman picked up.

The appointment was at two. We'd pulled in at one-forty. Already?

Ah, shit?

The fluster carried straight through the line. What on earth was this?

We got out of the car. The kids were spending yet more time fixing makeup that didn't look like it needed fixing, while the artist darted about dabbing and layering. Kim Hyunjo was nearby, so the Traitor took the car back out to fetch him, and I brought the kids up to the fourth floor alone. It was only for a little while, but having to look after them by myself put the strength into my body on its own.

It's a minute. What could go wrong?

The building was full of people. I couldn't tell who was a reporter, so I greeted everyone who passed. By now the line Hello, I'm Jung Sunwoo, Neptune's manager had glued itself to my mouth for good.

"Hello, we're Neptune!"

People who hadn't so much as glanced my way when I was the one saying hello locked onto Neptune's bright, lively voices.

"Who are they? Pretty."

"Rookies? Here for an interview, looks like."

"I've seen them somewhere... Oh, aren't those the ones? Next K-Star."

They seemed to think they were murmuring quietly among themselves. I heard every word.

While we waited for the woman I'd spoken to, I stole a look at what a reporters' world was like, and it was unbelievably hectic. Paper, newspapers, and sticky notes lay strewn over everything, and even with so many people already on calls, phones kept ringing from somewhere, loud on top of the rest. Faces soaked through with exhaustion—that much was the same here as at W&U.

"Hah—hah! I'm so sorry!"

A woman came running. Hair yanked into a single tight ponytail, a face without a trace of makeup, glasses far too big for her. Mid-twenties, by the look of her.

And somehow familiar.

I was sure it was a face, and a name, I was meeting for the first time. Not even an ordinary-looking one, and yet...

"You must have waited forever!"

"We only just came up ourselves."

"Uh... what do I do. For now—for now, come this way."

Still flailing, she led us into a cramped pantry.

"I'm sorry!"

"...We're not doing the interview in here, are we?"

"No! The interview's in the interview room, but the team booked ahead of you still isn't finished. I turned the whole floor upside down and every other meeting room is full, so this is the only place without people staring... I really am sorry."

She hustled chairs in from here and there and still came up short. In the end only the kids in heels sat, and the reporter and I talked on our feet.

"If it'd gone to plan, the group ahead of you should already be done, but the person we were interviewing wasn't feeling well and got here a little late."

She shut the pantry door tight and floundered, face red with embarrassment.

"They said the interview will wrap up within five minutes, so you only have to wait here a little."

"Ah... right. Understood."

"C-can I get you coffee? We've got instant mix, and brewed, and green tea too."

While she made it she kept checking Neptune's mood, wearing the look of someone who, if they were going to get cursed out, would rather just get it over with. Crammed into that tiny pantry, our kids didn't utter a single complaint. If anything they were conferring about what to say in the interview in a few minutes, and which poses to strike for the photos.

And Lim Seoyoung shot to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her feet to help with the coffee.

"Are you the one doing our interview, Reporter?"

"Huh? Yes—yes, that's right. I am."

"Please take good care of our article."

"Of course, obviously! I'll stay up all night writing Neptune's piece."

"What? You already look really tired... Please don't pull an all-nighter."

"I'm on my third straight one and I feel like I'm going to die, but I'll write the Neptune article and then die."

Lim Seoyoung, overflowing with charm, seemed to have landed square in the reporter's heart.

"I think Neptune's going to do really well this time. The song's good, and you landed Next K-Star too."

"Really? You've heard our song?"

"You're the team I'm interviewing—of course I listened. I had it on the whole way in to work today."

The group that was supposed to finish in five minutes dragged on, and we had to wait quite a bit longer, but the mood stayed warm and easy. The reporter had fallen completely for the Neptune members. For Lim Seoyoung most of all. She even vowed, grandly, that she would show us just how much care could be poured into an interview piece.

In the meantime Kim Hyunjo and the Traitor arrived. Kim Hyunjo looked utterly dumbfounded at the kids packed into the pantry, but once he'd heard the reporter's grand vow, he seemed satisfied.

Thirty minutes after we'd started waiting, we escaped. She led us to the interview spot: a room far wider and more comfortable than the pantry. We sat the kids down side by side first, and the Traitor, Kim Hyunjo, and I each took a chair.

"Then, let's start the interview..."

The door banged open.

She was mid-sentence when a man in his thirties walked in.

"Park Woo-jung, go keep writing those Lemon Girls drunk-driving pieces. Doesn't look like that one's dropping off the top of the search rankings anytime soon. Get twenty of them up before you clock out today."

"What?! Sunbae, I'm in the middle of an interview right now."

"I'll take it, so go. I'm checking every traffic ranking tomorrow, so don't half-ass them."

"Sunbae!"

"What are you standing there for? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I said go!"

In the end she stood, looking wronged, biting her lip hard and swallowing it. I felt for her, but there was nothing I could do. Lim Seoyoung half-rose as well, at a complete loss, and still couldn't bring herself to grab the reporter and hold her there. We weren't in any position to name our own journalist.

"Well, well. Dazzling. Neptune, right? Reporter Hwang Jeong-gu."

"Yes... hello."

"You waited a long time, didn't you? The one before you was an interview with the singer Lazy, and that kid was in such bad shape the schedule ran over. I hear you waited in the pantry. I should have been the one to show you in—she's a trainee, she doesn't know anything..."

The reporter on her way out flinched. Hwang Jeong-gu laughed, talked with Kim Hyunjo for a moment, then caught sight of the Traitor and startled.

"Huh? Aren't you the one who used to manage Blackout?"

"That's right. I transferred over yesterday."

"Whoa, talk about timing! All that's left for Neptune now is to blow up, isn't it?"

"Ha ha. Thank you."

While he and the Traitor talked, she closed the door behind her and left. Hwang paid it no mind and opened his mouth again.

"But, Chief, you might have told us first that Neptune got cast on K-Star. What with the Lemon Girls business too—a lot must have happened yesterday?"

"Well..."

The interview began. Most of what Reporter Hwang threw at them was about Next K-Star: how they'd come to be on it, how it had felt to learn the casting was confirmed, what resolve they were bringing to a competition show. Now and then a prickly question slipped in among them. What did they think of the Lemon Girls drunk-driving incident; were they confident they could outdo Lemon Girls. Whenever the members faltered, Kim Hyunjo answered in their place, or slid past it with a smile and something pleasantly vague.

It ran long. When I saw the Traitor coming back from the restroom, I quietly got up too. My shoulders ached; I was rolling them in circles as I walked, and I met the woman reporter coming out of the women's room.

She still looked angry.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes... How's the interview? Is it going well?"

"It's suffocating. If you'd been the one doing it, the mood would've been so much better."

She smiled, just a little.

But why did I keep feeling I'd seen her somewhere? It nagged.

"Have we, by any chance..."

Before I could ask whether we'd met before, it hit me. Hard.

Where I had seen her.

"What's wrong?"

"Sorry—what did you say your name was?"

"Park Woo-jung. Here."

She took out her wallet and held out a card.

Park Woo-jung. Age that face another twenty years, paint the lips with black lipstick, dye the hair blonde and cut it short...